


Rise of the Guardians: Earthsong

by roxasfanfics



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Drama, F/M, Guardians of Childhood - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxasfanfics/pseuds/roxasfanfics
Summary: Pitch Black is at it again, this time with a dastardly plan to rob the world of its spring! Alongside a new ally, the Guardians begin to formulate a plan to once again fell this terrible foe; in this process, Jack learns more about his past and his role in the world, and discovers something he never thought possible...DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Guardians of Childhood, nor the character within, only my OC. These rights belong to WIlliam Joyce.





	1. Foreword

As the full moon hung low in the sky, bathing the world in its soft white glow, the sleepy town of Burgess lay in the final thralls of a cold winter. The rooftops were still coated in a thin layer of frost, ice Crystal’s sparkling like precious diamonds as the moonlight streamed over them. The trees stretched their naked branches toward the night sky, as if desperately trying to grasp the pale light of the stars to provide them sustenance. A cold wind blew through the empty roads, carrying with it a chill; it danced over frosty wooden fences, cars covered in a thin layer of snow, mute green grass that was crunchy with the lingering ice, before shooting into the nearby woods that was nothing more than a collection of dark, leafless pine stalks. It whirled through the snow banks, jumping like a winter white rabbit, and swirled snowflakes about; they were little fairies prancing in the night, their little laughter barely audible over the shrieking of the wind, before dropping down to join their brethren collected on the ground. The wind glided into a clearing, where a beautiful lake was frozen over, and its icy surface was a mirror to the black sky above. Joyous laughter suddenly split the air, and Jack Frost skated over the wind he had conjured, sliding over the crystalline surface of the lake before springing up and landing expertly in the bough of a sturdy tree. He tapped the bark with his staff, admiring the intricate pattern the ice crystals that formed against the dry brown exterior. As he chuckled to himself, stretching out to lounge in the bough with one leg swinging slowly in the chilly air, he tucked his arms behind his head and looked up at the full moon with a satisfied smile. The only sounds were the singing of crickets and the occasional rattling of branches as the breeze shook them.

Suddenly, there was another sound, too. Jack sat up with narrowed eyes as he strained his ears to distinguish the new noise from the usual melody of the forest, and he gasped quietly when he realized the errant noise was a melody in itself. _Someone is singing?_ Quiet as a mouse, he slipped off of the branch and drifted down into the snowy bank below, his footfalls silent as he walked across the pure white snow. The song grew louder as he followed the beautiful voice, and after an minute he could discern that it was a female. She was singing a song without words, her voice rising and falling in a clear melody. Jack had never heard it before, but it sounded eerily familiar to him. He could hear it clearly now, meaning the mystery woman was close, so he pressed himself against the back of a wide tree and carefully peered out into the night.

She looked like an angel descended from Heaven as she slowly walked across the snow, wearing a simple white dress with flowing fabric that fluttered behind her as the wind flowed through the sheer sheets. Blonde hair streamed behind her, glowing silver in the moonlight. Her skin was creamy white, but not ghostly like Jack's; it was warm, rosy, full of the breath of life. Jack had never seen such a divine creature in his long, long life, and as he exhaled in wonder his breath fogged up in the cold. Enraptured by the goddess, he crept as close as he dared, mere yards from her as he watched her with wide eyes. As she hummed, the sound drifted over the wind to him, and it was the purest music that had ever graced his ears. _Why would a beautiful girl like that come wandering through the woods by herself?_ Concerned for her safety, he debated calling out to her, until he noticed what was happening around her.

Where she walked, the snow melted, turning to crystal clear water before being absorbed by the lush green grass that sprang up under her bare feet. Jack could feel the temperature warming around him; he could actually _feel_ the water condensing on his skin. Suddenly, she whirled about, her dress flowing like water as she raised a hand in some kind of dance; Jack breathed in sharply as the tree he was clung to abruptly grew warm, and the bark grew darker as the thin layer of frost vanished. He glanced up, and on the naked branches little green shoots were beginning to sprout, the buds of new leaves rapidly forming in response to the woman's strange ritual. When he looked back down at the clearing, most of the snow was gone, replaced by a luscious carpet of green patterned with brilliantly colored wildflowers. Like a ghostly ballerina, she glided through the brown trees, bringing the spring wherever she moved. Jack leaned on his staff as he watched her, amazed. _Is she the one who brings the spring? Who **is** she? _

“Wow…” he murmured aloud, so enthralled that he didn't even realize that he had spoken. It was then like a switch was flipped, snapping the girl out of her performance for the trees; she dropped down onto the flats of her feet, and Jack gulped as emerald green eyes flashed in the moonlight, glaring right where he was hiding. Her chest heaving and face flushed as he stared intently where he was standing half-masked by the tree and a scraggly bush, he prayed that she could not see him. A tense minute passed, with the girl just _staring,_ and Jack considered giving himself just to break that tension. However, before he could react, the girl whipped a hand to her mouth and a sharp whistle split the quiet night air. Jack covered his head, expected an attack, but instead there was a rush of winds and the flurry of feathers; when he lifted his head, the girl had vanished, leaving the lush forest scene behind. Jack walked out into the clearing, the grass that had just grown freezing beneath his feet, as he looked up at the night sky hoping to see a glimpse of the beautiful woman.

_I wonder who she was…_


	2. Pitch Black is Back!

Jamie squealed with delight as he threw open the front door to his home, taking the front steps two at a time before throwing himself into his front yard and rolling around happily in the soft green grass that had seemingly appeared overnight. Sophie came plunking down the steps, chanting “one, two, one, two" as she went, before jumping down onto the concrete and squealing with delight to run over and sprawl out beside her brother. Jamie laughed as he spit out a lock of her blonde hair that had somehow gotten into his mouth, then rolled onto his back to breath in the warm springtime air. Alongside the house, the flowers we shooting up, and would soon form colorful little buds. The trees alongside the street were beginning to form new leaves, too.

“It's _spring!_ ” he cried, delighted, and his head suddenly snapped to the side as he heard an amused chuckle float down from the fence. He beamed widely when he saw who was sitting there; it was his best friend, Jack Frost, leaning against his staff as he sat on the wooden planks, one leg swinging lazily as he gave Jamie his signature lop-sided smile. “Hello, Jack!”

“Good morning, Jamie,” the teenage winter spirit and newly-named Guardian smiled gently down at him. It was then that Jamie realized that, with the oncoming of spring, his wonderful friend would probably be leaving for the season. Suddenly despondent, he sat up and pouted down at his lap, prompting Jack to hop down from the fence wearing a concerned look. “Hey, what's that face for?” he grinned weakly and ruffled Jamie's hair affectionately, and even though he was sad at Jack likely departing, he could not help but smile slightly.

“I was just thinking about how you would be leaving,” he answered as he looked up at him, and Jack frowned deeply and looked away awkwardly, swinging his wooden staff in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah. Gotta go spread joy to other kids in the world, ya know?” he smiled, but a hint of sadness still left a shadow on his boyish features. He then grinned widely and poked Jamie in the chest with the end of his staff, knocking him over into a fit of giggles. “But I’ll be back soon! What's spring without a freak ice storm, yeah?” he joked. It was then that Sophie came tottering up to Jack, jumping up and trying to grab his magic staff, and the tall boy laughed in amusement as he held it out of her reach. “So, Jamie, why don't you get all your friends? You really didn't think I would take off without a farewell party, did you?” he winked. Jamie gasped happily, then jumped to his feet to scramble down the sidewalk, calling for his sister to follow as he raced down the neighborhood to gather his friends. Jack watched him with a smile, leaning on his staff as the little boy ran from house to house.

 _I guess this is **her** doing, _he thought as his wintry blue eyes swept over the neighborhood that was no cast in green. Just the night before, it had been Jack's domain, a winter wonderland where children built snowmen and snow angels, and had fervent snow ball fights. In all the many centuries he had been doing this, he had always thought that spring was a natural process, just a product of the Earth going about its business. It made sense now, though; he brought winter with him wherever he went, and so it stood to reason that there would be another side of the coin, a spirit of spring and flowers and warmth. _Why is it just now that I’m seeing her, though? Wouldn't she have introduced herself by now?_ He wondered. It was a puzzling situation, but unfortunately he had no solutions. He had seen the girl once in four hundred years; who was to say when he would see her again?

“Jack! Jack, let's _go!”_ Jamie demanded impatiently, and his friends chorused in agreement. Jack was abruptly ripped out of his thoughts, and soon forgot all about the beautiful girl as he dashed over to the little boys and girls, dancing on the wind as he raced them to the nearby park.

The children fell upon the various play sections of the park with glee, swinging from swings and sliding down slides with squeals of delight. Jack perched himself in the grass, cross-legged with his staff on his lap, watching them with a warm smile. It always did him good to see the kids happy, especially Jamie; the little boy was screaming with glee as Cupcake chased him across the playground in an intense game of tag. Abruptly, the chunky little girl shifted girls and charged him, startling him thoroughly. As he scrambled to his feet, sputtering for her to stop, she grinned cheekily at him before poking him in the cheat. Though it was an innocent gesture, the girl had almost superhuman strength, and the small touch knocked him flat on his back.

“You're it!” she cried, and with a booming laugh, she took off across the grass. Jack groaned as he sat up, rubbing his chest that was most surely bruised, while the children held their breath waiting for him to chase them. He pretended to be disinterested for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, and then suddenly jumped to his feet and conjured a harsh wind to carry him across the park. They scattered like marbles, shrieking as the winter spirit chased them across the playground, riding across his magical windstorm. Jamie howled with laughter as he desperately tried to escape his friend, but in his effort he lost control of himself and went crashing through a tangle of bushes. Jack immediately abandoned the game and went running after him, shoving the leafy bushes aside to glance around wildly.

“Jamie?” he called, and he could hear his voice floating up from somewhere. He hopped over the bush to find that the area was wooded, and sloped downward at an appreciable angle. He followed the trail of broken branches and strewn leaves to find Jamie sprawled on his back at the base. “Jamie!” he cried as he slid down to him, afraid that he was hurt; thankfully, the little boy just giggled happily. Smiling softly, Jack reached down and poked him in the forehead. “You're it.”

“Aw, nuts,” he chuckled. Smirking, Jack grabbed him by his skinny arm and pulled him to his feet, and Jamie took a moment to shake the leaves and twigs from his hair and brush the dust from his clothes. Before the boy could take off, however, they both stiffened as a vile voice drifted out of the trees. Jack raised a finger to his lips, then crouched down and cautiously crept over the ground to peer through some bushes. Jamie crawled after him, his eyes wide as he peered through the gap in the bushes, and what they saw there sent shudders traveling up both their spines.

There, in a small clearing with a vicious scowl on his pasty white face, was none other than the Guardians arch enemy Pitch Black.

“Ugly, disgusting things,” he snarled as he stamped a budding flower beneath his foot, grinding it mercilessly into dust. “ _Spring._ I always hated it!” he roared as he whipped around, his black bleak fluttering like black bats as he glared around at the beautiful springtime assemblage. “With all its _warmth_ and _goodness_ and _light…_ It’s _revolting,_ ” he continued to mutter to himself in delirium. Frightened, Jamie pressed close to Jack, and to reassure him the young teenager wrapped an arm around him as if to shield him from the dark villain. Angered by his presence, Jack's fingers were curling around his staff, and his teeth were clenched together.

“If it hadn't been for those meddlesome Guardians, this world would be mine!” Pitch ranted angrily as he continued to crush various flower buds beneath his feet, like a young child throwing a temper tantrum. _He's so vile,_ Jack thought in disgust. Abruptly, Pitch froze in the middle of his angry hissing, and a slow, evil smile crept across his face. “This would could _still_ be mine,” he realized aloud, leaning down to pluck a flower shoot from the grassy clearing. He held it up, turning it over slowly in his hands with an evil snicker. “Yes… _Yes…_ That's it! I can cast the world in darkness by draining it of its life… its warmth… its _spring._ Even if those Guardians are still around, the world will slowly rot into despair and fear if it is trapped in an eternal winter!” he grinned evilly, and the fresh flower bud crunched in his hand as he savagely crushed it in his fist. Before Jack could burst on the scene and confront him, he cackled evilly and vanished into the shadows. Even after his form had melted into the blackness, his evil laughed remained, echoing through the trees until fading up into the blue sky. Jack jumped out into the clearing, as if he could still catch him, and then sighed deeply as he kneeled down to gently pluck the mangled flower bud from the green grass layer.

“That can't be good,” he murmured and looked up to the place where Pitch had vanished. _If he's on the loose again, he must be devising some evil scheme. What could he have possibly meant by ‘taking away the world's spring'?”_ he wondered as he stood up, tucking the little crushed flower into the pocket of his frosty blue hoodie. He turned his head as Jamie came crawling out of the bushes, looking around with scared eyes.

“Pitch Black is back,” he whispered fearfully.

“Seems like it. Come on. We had better get you guys home, if he's lurking around here,” he mumbled and walked over to the little boy, placing a hand on his back to begin guiding him up the hill. Jamie grabbed onto his hoodie, eyes still wide with concern.

“The Guardians aren't gonna let Pitch do what he wants, right? You gotta!” he cried. Jack snorted with laughter and affectionately ruffled his brown hair, smiling broadly and nodding. That seemed to reassure the boy well enough, and so he began to dash up the hill, panting heavily. As the little boy ran off, Jack's smile wavered; he felt guilty, telling such a bold-face lie. Taking down Pitch nearly destroyed the Guardians the last time; he couldn't guarantee anything, really. He looked down at his hoodie, pulling out the little mangled flower that had tried to hard to grow. _… We have to win, no matter what! I can't let Pitch spread the darkness._

After Jack had safely delivered the children home, the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. It was imperative that he head to the North Pole immediately, to reports the news to North and the other Guardians, but something inside Jack told him to linger. Twirling his staff in his hand like a baton, he strolled across the forest floor, leaving frosty footsteps in his wake; it was strange, walking across the soft, loamy ground, when he was so used to the soft crunch of snow. He tapped a tree occasionally, leaving fern-like patterns weaving across the bark, his signature mark. His feet carried him to the lake, the lake in which he had been born, the lake that was now glittering with light as gentle waves lapped at the sandy shore. It was a stark contrast to the mirror-like sheet of ice that was so perfect for ice skating. He walked to the edge of the lake, staring down into the blue water, watching little minnows swim about.

Jack had never given much thought to spring. He was the incarnation of winter, after all; it was theoretically his job to transition the warm, lovely summer into the cool, brusque chill of fall. If anything, spring was his enemy.

Still, he could not deny that standing there, watching the light play across the water as the sun dove below the growing canopy of the forest with the warm breeze flowing over him, it felt _nice._ He smiled weakly. _The children love spring, too. As a Guardian, it's my job to save it, then._ He was about to turn to leave when he noticed strange in the water, a reflection on the opposite bank. He watched it shift for a moment, unfocused, before it briefly took the form of a young woman in a brilliant white dress with golden hair. He gasped, his head snapping up to look at the opposite bank, but she wasn't there. _Am I imagining things now?_ He wondered, staring at the tree line for a moment. No one emerged, and so he just wrote it off as a trick of his mind. He whipped his staff around, throwing up a wind to carry him to the North Pole, and grinned widely as he rode it into the sky.

_Look out, Pitch! We'll be coming for you soon enough!_


	3. The Guardians Gather

“’Scuse me, ‘scuse me, comin' through,” Jack sighed heavily as he shoved his way between the two massive Yetis who were currently standing in the wooden doorway to North's winter wonderland workshop. He squeezed through the hairy bodies, emerging on the other side with a disgruntled expression, spitting Yeti hairs out of his mouth and shaking them out of his snowy white hair, and smelled his dull blue hoodie to find that it now carried the unappealing musk that the beast's boasted. Giving himself a final shake to dislodge any lingering Yeti hairs, he propped his staff on his shoulder and set off across the workshop to find the spirit of Christmas.

North's workshop was an architectural wonder. The building itself was a gigantic dome, completely constructed of stone with a magnificent vaulted ceiling above Jack's head. The center of the dome was open, where the massive globe sat as the centerpiece on the ground floor, golden lights twinkling and indicating a child that had faith in the guardians. On that floor was also the strange pedestal where the man in the moon related messages to them, and the little shrine-like area where Jack had been inaugurated as a proper Guardian. On the walls were the levels of the workshop proper, where Yetis were hard at work and elves were running around pretending to be useful. On one of these floors was a door that led into another section of the expansive network of the North Pole, North's own personal workshop, where he did his delighted tinkering and inventing. Jack skipped up some wooden steps to carry him up to the second floor, working his way towards that very destination.

Jack strolled across the wooden planks of the floor, looking around with no shortage of appreciation. North's toy factory had always amazed him. Yetis sat hunched over tables, carefully stitching smiles onto rag dolls' cloth faces, painstakingly assembling the mechanical gears of toy trains, and winding the springs in little plastic race cars with a surprising level of attention to detail and expertise considering their brawn and dumb appearance. Little elves, dressed in red and green suits with little bells jingling on their pointed, curled hoods, toddled about beneath the tables and between the Yetis feet, snickering mischievously as they unbalanced the much larger creatures before scurrying off lest they be on the receiving end of an angry beast's wrath. They absconded with strings of lights and set to winding them around random things, plugging them in and “ooh"-ing and “aah"-ing at the beautifully illuminated colors. Others were sitting in corners stuffing their faces with cookies of all types- iced sugar, chocolate chip, gingerbread. Quite a few had already been claimed by stomachaches, and were lying on the floor groaning and contemplating their poor life choices.

Jack passed into the toy-testing section of the workshop, which was in an even deeper state of chaos. Toy airplanes, their propellers whirling and their engines whirring, sailed above Jack's head just below the vaulted wooden ceiling. Train tracks were assembled all throughout the room, causing Jack to tread carefully and even duck his head to avoid bumping into the meticulously constructed network of tracks, where model steam engines were chugging away. At a table, a miserable Yeti was winding up Jack-in-the-boxes, jumping violently each time the little clown sprung up and laughed maniacally. Jack found it immensely amusing, but also felt bad for the poor creature.

After wandering through several levels of the workshop, Jack finally arrived at the small little hallway that connecting the larger workshop to North's sanctum. As he strolled down the dark hall, he found the door slightly ajar, and he stuck his head in with wide blue eyes and tapped his staff against the heavy wooden door. It made resounding _thunk-thunk_ sounds.

“North? You in here?” he called. It was honestly hard to see the burly Russian man, because his workshop was even more chaotic than the central one. Rows upon rows of shelves lined the room, stuffed to capacity with generations' worth of North's prized toys. An elaborate model of a discovery-era wooden ship sat next to a shiny plastic rendition of a bi-plane. A boxy robot with a panel of multicolored lights and an antenna sticking out of its square head was sitting next to a fluffy, friendly-looking teddy hear. A pogo stick was propped up against a tricycle on a large shelf that was at the bottom of the scaffolding. Along with the shelves, there were towers of books stacked around, about waist-high. An elaborate tapestry had fallen halfway down from where it had been mounted against the stone wall, draping its rich purple and golden hues over a stack of books.

Beyond that chaos was where the magic happened. North's workshop was carved into the face of a glacier itself, and stone and wood gave way to pure, crystalline ice, carved into beautiful arches to shape a little alcove. A simple workbench was placed here, cluttered with designs drawn on paper and gears and half-assembled contraptions. The ice was ever-encroaching, frosting the floor to form a mirror-like layer of ice that reflected the beautiful chaos of the room around it. It even danced in the air, little snowflakes drifting about and landing into Jack's hair; maybe he was just romanticizing the dust floating around. Though one would imagine the place to be dark, it was quite the opposite; a large section had been carved out of the ice wall and an ornate window placed there, so that North could look out at the tundra where various other buildings had been nestled into the ice. It was a beautiful sight at night, where the sky, unpolluted by the smog of civilization, blazed in all its brilliance with thousands of stars, and the surface world glistened with the golden light of the workshop, burning the midnight oil, working day and night to prepare for the beloved holiday.

“North?” Jack called again, louder, and pushed the door open all the way to stroll into the small nook. He then jumped nearly out of his pale skin when the man came shambling out of the bowels of the workshop, appearing suddenly from between two shelves.

“Jack! My boy! You are just in time! Come, come, I have something to show you!” he beamed in his thick accent, a giant hand beckoning the comparably small boy to approach his bench. With a grunt, he shoved all the little articles aside to clear a suitable amount of space on his bench before planting some mechanical contraption on the bench.

“Uh, North, I have something pretty important to tell you,” Jack frowned as he hesitantly walked over to the bench, but North just threw a very muscular tattooed around his shoulders and pulled him so close that Jack thought his ribs might crack.

“This will only take moment,” North assured before pointing down at the little machine, which Jack now recognized to be a robotic puppy. With a giggle, the man flipped a switch in the middle of it’s back and the puppy abruptly burst into life, barking happily and wagging its tail. It moved with surprising fluidity, running around in a circle and crouching down to wiggle its mechanical behind at Jack, a little iron tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Isn't he cute? I call him Gizmo,” the manly man chortled, then laughed in glee as the puppy scampered over to him and began hopping up at his thick chest, barking and demanding to be cuddled. North's booming laughter echoed through the small room as he picked up the tiny mechanical puppy in one hand to bring it to his face, and his giggled uncontrollably as it licked him happily. _It's almost hard to believe it's the same sword-wielding Russian hero,_ Jack thought as he watched the man dissolve into his delighted fit. He set the puppy down to allow it to scamper around the workshop before putting his hands on his hips and turning to look at Jack. “Now, what is it you needed to tell me!”

“Oh!” Jack exclaimed. He had quite forgotten for the moment having been caught up in North's demonstration. “Pitch Black! Jamie and I saw Pitch!” he cried and reached up to grab the burly man's shoulder. “He's planning something. We heard it!” he insisted when his expression turned mildly doubtful.

“Hmmm…” He murmured and ran a hand through his snowy beard thoughtful. “I will call other Guardians,” he decided after a moment of contemplation.

Not long after, Jack was sitting on top of the slowly spinning globe, while the rest of the Guardians had just gathered. As they exchanged the obligatory greetings, Jack stood up and drifted down to the snow-covered floor, glancing up to the giant window in the dome of the building that gave a clear view of the full moon, and indicator that the silent but ever-present Man in the Moon was avidly observing the gathering. “All right, Jack. Tell us what you saw and heard,” North instructed. Jack swung his staff in his hands as he paced about, recalling the occurrence in his mind to relate it to the other Guardians.

“Jamie and I came across Pitch in the woods outside Burgess. He didn't know we were there, so we heard everything. He was kind of vague, but he talked about ‘bringing darkness to the world by taking away its spring,’” he related. He still wasn't quite sure what to make of it. _How can you take away spring, anyway?_ A ripple of gasps went across the group.

“It hasn't even been a year, and he's already crawled out of his pit to bother us again?” Bunnymund grumbled in his Australian drawl, crossing his furry arms and angrily tapping his long rabbit foot, making the boomerang at his hip bump repeatedly against his leg. Sandy put a hand over his mouth, the little emotive sand dancing above his head to produce a rendition of the nightmarish horses they had faced in the last paramount battle.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Toothiana fretted nervously, fluttering about while her little fairies buzzed in orbit around her and chittered in high frequency. “If there's no spring, the world will be cast in eternal darkness! The world will essentially halt, and not even our efforts will be able to keep hope in the children,” she murmured and looked nervously at the globe, as if expecting it to flicker out at any moment.

“How could he even take spring in the first place?” Jack demanded impatiently. That was the most important part of the riddle. Before any of the other Guardians could answer, moonlight suddenly poured into the window, falling across the crystal pedestal beneath the wide window. As if called, the Guardians gathered around it, watching with interest as a shape formed in the glistening white light. Jack's white eyebrows shot up to his forehead when he recognized the shape of the beautiful woman he had seen walking through the night a few days before, bringing flowers where she had walked and singing that hauntingly familiar melody to no one.

“Mother Nature! Of course!” Bunnymund exclaimed, slamming a fisted paw into the palm of the other.

“Mother Nature?” he echoed, looking at him, completely perplexed. Toothiana fluttered over to his other side, holding her hands together as she smiled brightly.

“Mother Nature is the one who brings spring! She’s a beauuuuuutiful young lady, with golden hair that shines like the rising sun and fair skin that glows with the warmth of life,” she sighed in admiration. _Whoa. So she’s a big fan,_ Jack thought as he edged away from the gushing fairy, mildly uncomfortable.

“So you all know who she is? How come I’ve never met her?” he frowned, crossing his arms and puffing out his cheeks in distaste. _Does she not like me?_ He wondered. The Guardians all avoided the question with a myriad of shrugs and uncomfortable looks, and even though they obviously knew something, he knew that he wasn't going to get it out of them. _I’m just gonna have to ask her myself, then._ “Right. So if she brings the spring, then its obvious that Pitch is gonna go after her, right? So why don't we just tell her?”

“Well, ‘ere's the thing about Mother Nature, mate. She’s a mite shy,” Bunnymund explained carefully.

“It is true. Bunny is only one who has actually _talked_ to her. We have only seen her in passing,” North added. Sandy nodded emphatically in agreement, then looked at the Easter rabbit with the sandy image of a house swirling above his head, asking where the elusive woman might reside. Bunnymund frowned and cocked his head to the side, his ears flopping as he racked his mind.

“Well, this one time she did mention somethin’ about Angel Falls. It's the tallest waterfall in the world, deep in the jungles of Venezuela,” he recalled with a doubtful expression. To Jack, it was a good start. As he gripped his staff tightly and lightly jumped up into the window, they all chorused in protest. “Aye, mate, where ya goin'?”

“We have not decided what to do yet!” North added with a stern look, pointing at the floor in a clear sign for Jack to get his skinny behind back to the gathering. He ignored it.

“It's clear we gotta find this girl, right? So I’m gonna go find her,” he grinned cheekily before hopping put of the window, laughing as he heard then groaning and shouting behind them. The wind whirled beneath him, carrying him over the wintery landscape as it bore him to the south. Truth be told, he was curious about the mysterious woman; since that night he had seen her beautiful form in the dark, he had wanted to know who she was, and why she had never introduced herself to him as essentially his counterpart. As he sailed through the night sky, he conjured an image of the golden-haired beauty in his mind.

_Mother Nature, huh?_


	4. Mother Nature

As Jack spiraled down from the clear blue sky towards the emerald earth below, he could hear nothing over the tremendous thundering of the water cascading from the cliffside to splash into the massive pool hundreds of feet below. White, frothy foam bubbled at the point of impact, swirling through the crystal clear water like soap. Just feet from the rocky shore of the pool, the forest encroached, towering trees stretching their leafy branches to the sky while ferns and bushes hugged their thick trunks and roots, broad leaves catching the sunlight wherever possible. He landed beside the water, his bare feet digging into the soft, loamy earth for a brief second before it froze solid beneath his toes. He inhaled the deep forest air, savoring the scent of rich fruits and flowers mingling with earth and decay, then propped himself up on his staff.

“Now, where would a nature spirit hide around here?” he wondered aloud, swinging his staff around as he began poking around the massive waterfall. The water droplets shooting through the air froze into little diamond droplets as they splashed onto his clothes and hair; he left icy footprints where he walked, meandering around the edge of the pool to inspect crevices in rocks and pull up rotting logs, watching as the bugs scattered to find another dank, dark hole. He found plenty of centipedes and spiders and beetles, and dark holes, but no sign of the beautiful, golden-haired woman he sought. With an irritated huff, he whirled around and shouted up at the booking waterfall, “Oi! Mother Nature! You out here?” His voice bounced through the small clearing, his only answer his own echo. He stomped over to the rocky cliff coated in moss and stubborn clinging plants to lean up against it with his arms crossed, snorting. “Where _are_ you?”

He took a few minutes to fume silently before he pushed himself away from the wall, unable to think straight with the constant tremendous drumming of the gushing water. He craned his neck to gaze up at the impressive height of the waterfall, until his eyebrows knit together when a sudden thought occurred to him. _Could there be something behind the waterfall?_ He wondered. All of the Guardians had homes in securely hidden, off-the-wall places, after all; it would not be unreasonable, given the massive size of the cliff from which the waterfall poured, for there to be an expansive cavern hidden behind the streaming water. Thus, Jack swirled his staff and allowed the cold wind to bear him into the air, shooting alongside the endless stream.

Stray droplets rained down onto him as he peered behind the sheet of foaming water, but all he could discern was the same slick, dark rock. When he was about halfway up, he was beginning to grow discouraged, until the rough surface suddenly vanished. Beyond the water, the wall abruptly caved in into a spacious cave-like opening. _Finally!_ Carefully, using the slippery rock as a foothold, he wormed his way into the thin gap between the cave and the thundering water. Somehow, he managed to squeeze through without slipping, though his hair and clothes now contained a thin frost from the sheer amount of water had been poured onto him. He shook his head, sending snowflakes fluttering in the gloom. Only a little light filtered through the waterfall, sending white lines dancing across the moss-slicked cave floor; however, the back of the cave was shrouded in deep darkness. Cautiously, he descended into the murkiness, holding his staff aloft as the darkness embraced him.

As he pressed further into the cave, the rhythmic drumming of the waterfall faded and was replaced by the fall of his footsteps echoing in the gloom. The air was cold and heavy with moisture, causing his breath to fog up in front of his face. It felt like he was shuffling through the dark for an eternity, and was wondering if this was going to be a dead end, until suddenly there was a glimmer of light in the distance. “Bingo!” he grinned and shot towards it. The ball of light rapidly expanded until it swallowed him, and it was so bright that he had to squeeze his eyes shut and shield his face with a hand lest he be blinded. His lashes fluttered repeatedly for a moment as his eyes gradually adjusted to the glaring light, and as he did so an amazing image emerged. “Wooooow!” he breathed as he lowered his arm, his eyes wide with wonder.

The cave had led to a gigantic circular cavern hewn into the inside of the cliffs, a hemisphere hundreds of feet in diameter, but the stone was not just dark like outside, but carved with rivers of white calcification from the high level of moisture. Stalactites and stalagmites and columns spanned the impressive height, making the room seem like some elaborate throne room. At the peak of the dome, the ceiling had fallen away, leaving a large hole open to the world above. Vines crawled over the edge and clung desperately to the ceiling. The light that filled the spacious room originated from this point, as well as a few other holes dotted here and there in the stone ceiling. That wasn't the most impressive thing, though.

Planted in the center of the cavern was the largest tree that Jack had ever seen in his life. The tree’s trunk was absolutely massive, so large that _five_ of him probably couldn't embrace the entire circumference. Its branches were as thick as the trunks of the trees outside, curling and twisting like corkscrews across the ceiling and through the air and even bending down to crawl along the stone floor. Smaller branches sprouted from the thick main branches, and smaller ones sprung from those, making a dense network. The leaves, about the size of his hand, were rich emerald and shining in the sunlight. Strange, glittering fruits were nestled within, perfectly spherical and gourmet feet in diameter. Jack scampered over to the nearest one, contained within a bend in one of the thick branches, and was amazed to find that they were not fruits at all; rather, they were portals of some kind.

“Amazing!” he breathed as he brought his face close to the portal-like sphere, the surface rippling with his breath like a bubble. Within the sphere was an entire _world,_ a beautiful coral reef stretching across blue-grey stone. The corals were dyed red, blue, purple, yellow, green, and every shade in-between, with structures that varied just as much- branches and fans and brains and shapes he couldn’t even describe. The squishy stingers of anemones flowed back and forth in the gentle water current, and Jack was delighted to see little orange-and-white clownfish flitting between them. Other colorful fishes swam in schools across the reef, an eel poked its snake-like head out of a hole, an octopus scuttled across the rocky floor, starfish clung to the rocks and corals- even a sea turtle slowly glided by, like a guardian enduring the peace of its sanctum. Jack's blue eyes shimmered with the light playing through the water, and almost entranced, he found himself reaching out to touch it. His hand did not meet resistance with the barrier, however; it melted through the thin, malleable surface to slip into the water, and he felt the coolness of it spreading across his hand. He pulled his hand out and was astonished to find that it was not wet, and a grin slowly spread across his face. Without further ado, he shoved his head into the strange ball.

His head emerged from a sizable crevice within the rocks, and his hair floated around him as he turned his head from side to side. His appearance had startled the fish around him, sending them scattering like marbles, but after a few minutes they grew more curious than afraid and ventured over to inspect the strange boy. He laughed as they nipped at his frosty-white hair and swam in front of his face, and his giggles sent them fleeing once more. After a few more minutes of enjoying the underwater haven, he pulled his head out of the sphere to return to the task at hand. He walked toward the base of the tree, stepping over the roots that had cracked through the rocky earth and maneuvering through the sprawling branches, all while investigating the strange portal spheres. He saw an African savanna, a dense jungle, an Antarctic tundra, a scorching desert, and several kinds of forests. As he grew closer to the heart of the tree, he began to see more and more species of animals he did not recognize; they were funny-looking, and a lot bigger. He jumped back from one, a sphere containing swirling snow and an icy glacier, when he saw a wooly mammoth trudging through the snow. He peered into it, watching in awe as a pack of sabre-tooth tigers sprung out from behind some rocks to begin chasing after the large elephant-like creature. “What the-? What _is_ this tree?” he cried and dashed forward, jumping up in the air to follow the spheres further into the dense treetop. He landed on one thick branch next to one sphere with an open plain, and his jaw dropped when he saw _dinosaurs_ dashing across the short grass. “Cool! If only Jamie could see this!” he snickered and jumped down. Though he would love to explore the portals, he had a job to do.

As he landed back on the rough, rocky ground and glanced at the thick trunk, he was finally close enough to discover that a multi-room cottage had been built around the massive tree. It was made of soft, creamy brown wood with cream-colored accents, shutters and the like. Its roof tiles were a darker shade. Jack could see light blazing within the marbled glass windows, but because of the pattern he could not see anything inside. Outside the cottage was a gazebo of white metal, with crawling ivy with large white flowers in bloom. On that gazebo was a set of two plush, grey chairs and a small gray table, in one of those chairs sat the woman Jack had been trying to find.

She sat with a book in her small hands, her face turned downward as she read silently. All he could hear was the occasional turn of the page. Jack cautiously crept closer, his staff clutched in his hand; he could only barely see her, and she obviously did not know that he was there; he didn't want to startle her, but in case he did he certainly did not want to be caught unawares. As he came around the edge of the lawn to look into the opening of the awning, his heart stopped in his chest. She was _looking_ at him, staring at him with eyes like pure emeralds, her golden hair shining around her.

“Did you enjoy the Tree of Life?” she asked him. Jack was struck by how _beautiful_ her voice sounded; it matched the rest of her, soft and sweet as North's silver bells. He stood there for a moment, captivated, while a small smile appeared on her pink lips and she snapped the book shut, jarring him out of his stupor.

“O-oh. Yes,” he stammered shyly, glancing up at the impressive plant. “The Tree of Life?” he echoed.

“Yes. It is the record of all life since the beginning of time, and I am its keeper,” she explained. “Those portals lead to biomes that are representative of different points in time, both past and present.” Jack bit down on his knuckles slightly as the elation bubbled up inside of him again, and a pink haze appeared on her cheeks as he hopped into the gazebo to gesture wildly at the tree with his staff.

“So, you have _every animal ever_ here?” When she nodded, he laughed giddily and danced around slightly, running a hand through his hair. “Oh, man, I gotta bring Jamie here! Man, he would _love_ this! Wait, wait, what about mythical creatures? You got those?” he babbled, whirling back on her and causing her to jump.

“Yes, I do,” she smiled and rose from her chair and waved for him to follow her as she stepped out of the gazebo. He scampered after her, avoiding the flowing train of her white dress as she walked out into the grass. He found that she was barefoot as well, and little flowers sprouted where she strode. She walked up to the trunk of the tree and placed her hand on the bark, and to his shock the tree began to _move,_ its branches writhing and shifting positions. One of them dove down to settle itself in front of her, a sphere perched against the wood, and she waved him over. Jack approached the sphere and peered inside to see a forest clearing, and contained with a shining white unicorn grazing in the grass. His lips parted slightly as he gazed at it in pure wonder, and when he looked at Mother Nature, she was smiling brightly and proudly. “Who is Jamie?” she inquired as she touched the tree again, sending it back to its original position, and he smiled bashfully.

“Oh. He’s a little boy I’m friends with… He's real big into mythical creatures, and he would have a _ball_ with this place,” he snickered, leaning on his staff. Now that the initial excitement was over, he finally had the presence of mind to really _look_ at her. “You know, you’re pretty young-looking for someone they call _Mother_ Nature,” he frowned. Truly, she looked no older than he did. She blushed again and looked away.

“I’m only one in a long line of Mother Natures. I inherited the title four hundred years ago. The Earth appoints us to guide life's progression and record it, and, if necessary, protect it,” she explained. “I am also responsible for the coming of spring, the renewal of life each year.” As she mentioned the season, he suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place.

“Oh! Speaking of, Mot- no, that's weird. I’m calling you something else. Can I call you… Nat? Yeah, I’m calling you Nat. Anyway! You’re in big trouble!” he cried and grabbed her by the shoulder, shaking her a little. Her eyes fluttered rapidly as she struggled to comprehend his stream of babble, until she finally narrowed her eyes at him.

“Trouble? Whatever do you mean?”

“It's Pitch Black! I overheard him hatching a plan to ‘rid the world of its spring,’ and so the other Guardians sent me to come get you so we can keep you safe.” At the mention of the Bogeyman, her expression grew sour, and she pulled herself away from him to march toward her cabin. “Um, where are you going?” he asked as he scurried after her.

“So, Pitch thinks that he can defeat me, does he?” she snorted, ignoring him as she threw the door to the cabin open and stomped inside. He poked his head into the threshold, his eyes following her movement to a fireplace. She plucked a bow from a mount about the hearth, one made of dark ebony, and grabbed a quiver of arrows from a hanging hook. As she whirled around, her golden hair and white dress spun with her. “Well, I think he'll find that I’m quite a bit tougher than I look.” _I like her spirit,_ he thought with a smirk as she haughtily stomped back out of the building, red roses springing up where she walked. _Do the flowers change with her moods?_ He thought with a grin. “To be honest, Nat, I didn't think it would be that easy. Bunny said you were shy. Is that why I’ve never seen you in four hundred years?” he asked casually, and as the words left his mouth, she stiffened. _That’s weird._

“… I just don't get out much. I have to keep constant guard over the Tree of Life. It is the lifeblood of the Earth, not just a record. If anything happens to it, then the Earth will freeze in time. Crops will yield little, animals will give less and less meat, and the Dark Ages will return,” she answered, but despite the logic he could tell that she was withholding something from him. However, before he could inquire, she summoned an orb from the tree again. She leaned forward, whispering into it in an ancient language, then retreated. “You may want to step back,” she warned as he tried to walk closer and inspect it, and when he moved to look at her he cried out when a massive reptilian head shoved it’s way out of the bubble.

“You have a _dragon?_ ” he shouted as the gigantic winged lizard slithered out of the sphere, rapidly growing larger as it exited the portal. It towered nearly as high as the tree itself, its scales as emerald as Nat's eyes. Its thick legs stood on either side of Jack as he craned his neck to gaze up at it in sheer awe, while its tail slithered back and forth over the rocky earth. Its bat-like wings were folded against its side, and when it’s long neck twisted around so it could look at him, golden eyes bored deep into his soul. Its forked tongue flickered out of its maw to lick him, and he wriggled at the strange, tickling sensation. “Hey!” he snickered. The dragon exhaled deeply, blowing white smoke into the air before it looked at Nat.

“This is Salazar. He guards the Tree while I am away,” she smiled as she reached up and stroked the dragon's face. The ground rumbled from the ferocity of its purring, like a gigantic cat. Then, after being caressed for a few moments, it slipped away to curl protectively around the cabin and tree. Jack held a hand out for her, to which she responded with a quizzical look.

“We have to fly to the North Pole.”

“Who said I needed your help to fly?” she smiled wryly, and placed her fingers in her mouth to whistle shrilly. A loud neigh responded, and Jack glanced up as he heard the leaves rustling wildly. From the emerald green burst a white shape, and he grinned elatedly as a pegasus soared around the top of the tree before descending and landing primly in front of Nat. She climbed up onto the beautiful white winged horse, slinging the bow and quiver over her back. The horse tossed its head, flipping its long white mane about, before she smirked at him. “After you.”

Jack grinned before flipping his staff and summoning the winds, shooting upwards to soar above the giant tree through the hole in the cave top. He glanced down to see the horse galloping through the air after him, with Nat perched on his back with her golden hair streaming in the wind.

_Well, mission accomplished. I wonder what will happen next?_


	5. What Lies Ahead

_Nat… Of all the things he could call me, it had to be **that,**_ Nathalie thought with pursed lips as she cast a sidelong glance at the jovial winter spirit flying on the swirling, icy winds beside her. She had not been called by such a name in four hundred years; it was almost an unprecedented coincidence. Still, she had better things to dwell on, such as the fact that the notorious Bogeyman desired her for some nefarious plot. Her fingers tightened around the strands of her pegasus' streaming mane as she imagined what his fell purpose could entail. _Ridding the world of its spring to plunge the world into an eternal winter… It is foul indeed._ As the guardian of the world’s life and warmth, she could not allow such a thing to pass.

“You’re thinking awfully hard.” She glanced over to see the young, white-haired man sailing along beside her, stretched out on his back with his hands behind his head while the winds held him aloft. Her mouth twitched slightly in displeasure and she tossed her head, her golden hair rippling like a curtain waving in a gentle breeze.

“The threat upon this world is not something I take lightly. It requires much contemplation.”

“You talk weird,” he snickered and rolled over onto his belly, kicking his legs while he propped his head in his hands. Nathalie's cheeks took on a red hue as she stared at him incredulously. “You definitely sound as old as you are.”

“Hasn't anyone ever told you not to comment on a woman's age?” she snapped acidly, and before he could offer another ridiculous remark, she lightly kicked her pegasus' haunches to coax more speed out of him. His brilliant white wings, which had been extended to ride the trade winds, responded by flapping vigorously to propel him suddenly forward and away from the uncouth youth. His hooves struck the empty air as if he were galloping, but instead of striking hard earth they plowed into soft, forgiving clouds. She could hear Jack's laughter echoing behind her as the winged horse bore her through the sky. _How rude! I do not talk strange!_ She fumed silently.

“Aw, Nat, I’m sorry. Did I make you mad?” She squeaked as he suddenly appeared on her left, now lying on his side as he gazed at her amused yet apologetic. She certainly was in no mood to accept, and tugged on the beautiful streams of her horse's hair to force it to bank, sending it in a downward curve toward the surface. Jack seemed unperturbed by her obvious efforts to evade him and dropped down, flying in a circle around the horse before landing lightly on its haunches in a crouch. “I didn’t mean to insult you!” he insisted as he batted at her writhing curls of golden hair, which had taken on lives of their own and were striking at the pale boy like snakes. Affronted that he would dare land upon her beloved steed, she whipped around to roughly shove him off, sending him tumbling head-over-heels into the open air. He somersaulted a few times before righting himself with a laugh, while Nathalie glared at him with rosy cheeks.

“I am insulted!” _Who does he think he is? He has no business being so plucky! The fate of the world hangs in the balance, yet he is treating it as a game- and insulting me! He certainly doesn't need to look so cute doing it, either!_ As that particular thought raced through her mind, she immediately stiffened, her face transitioning to a bright shade of apple-red. _She_ had no business thinking such things. Grumbling about her own incompetence, she once again struck the sides of her horse with her bare heels, making him whinny and dive down to the world below. The endless canvas of sapphire blue sea and rocky green and brown continents had given away to a blanket of pure white ice, shining with the intensity of a star as it reflected the brilliant rays of the sun. Nestled at the very peak of the Earth was a cluster of buildings half-buried in pillowy snow, with golden lights twinkling against the bleak backdrop like a strange, foreign ship. Undoubtedly, it was the toy workshop of Nicholas Saint North. As she gazed upon it, Nathalie could not help but be amazed by its splendor. _It's beautiful._

As her pegasus landed on the cobblestone pathway leading to the door, his hooves chinking against the thin mirror of ice slicking the ground, a pair of yetis lumbered out of the massive oaken door to shamble over and gesture toward a small building not far away, likely a stable where North also kept his reindeer. Jack landed beside her and offered a hand to help her down from the horse, but she ignored the extended hand to swing down from her steed. Her effort to seem dignified and able was wasted, however; when her bare feet met the cold ice, the thin layer melted into frigid water and caused her to slip. As she wobbled with her arms waving frantically to try and regain her balance, Jack caught her by the waist and gently steadied her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him smiling brightly and kindly, and once again her cheeks took on a rosy tint. That smile dazzled her more than the glistening lights of the legendary workshop, and she momentarily forgot that she was displeased with his rude commentary.

“Are you all right?” he asked her gently. She swallowed nervously and straightened up, sweeping the disarrayed ribbons of her golden hair from her face as she regained her composure.

“Yes, I am. Thank you,” she answered primly and turned as the yetis led her noble horse into the stables. _I suppose I can forgive him for his rudeness. Now, for the task at hand._  Her back straight and her head high, she strode purposefully into the gigantic workshop. Immediately, her emerald eyes were captured by the wonders within. Nathalie had never laid eyes upon the magnificent structure before, and its interior was nearly as splendorous as the exterior. A winding staircase trailed up the spherical room, interrupted by the circular work floors where the yetis were hard at work. Nathalie's predecessor had conjured the furry creatures for North to serve as his assistants. The elves had been a product of human imagination that were thought so cute that they were also willed into being- but had ended up comically stupid. She raised an eyebrow as one waddled by trailing a string of colored lights, no doubt up to some foolish mischief for he was snickering uncontrollably.

“This way,” Jack instructed as he strolled by her, his staff propped against his shoulder and fern-like ice patterns swirling across the floor where he walked. Rather than follow him immediately, she kneeled down to trace a finger along one of the flowing swirls, but as soon as it met her touch it dissolved like butter upon bread. Nathalie was barred from ever knowing the soft touch of snow or the glass-like sensation of ice against her skin. Nathalie had not experienced such things in four hundred years. With a small sigh, she rose and followed after the winter spirit.

He led her into the heart of the workshop, where a gigantic globe was slowly spinning. Little golden lights were clustered upon its surface. _This must be the globe that Bunnymund told me about, where each light signifies a child with faith in the Guardians._ In the curved wall sat a massive window with a clear view of the tundra, and moonlight streamed through it to pour across the patterned stone floor. It was styled in a compass, but rather than the four cardinal directions each point of the star dictated south. As she glanced back up through the window, the clouds were parting to reveal a large full moon. It seemed that the Man in the Moon had appeared to bear witness to Nathalie's arrival.

“Ah! Wonderful! You have arrived!” a booming voice resounded through the quiet domed room, and Nathalie turned as a burly man with tattoos inked into his massive arms came lumbering in. Despite his impressive size, his frosty blue eyes glimmered jovially above his large nose and silky white beard. Nathalie dipped her head respectfully to him.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Saint North.” As she raised her head, the Easter Bunny came hopping out from behind him, his boomerang jangling at his hip as his powerful hind legs thumped against the polished floor. He came bounding up to her, standing at his full six-foot-something height once he reached her.

“G'day, Mother Nature. I hope that runt didn't give ya too much trouble,” he smirked with a pointed look at the boy, who was perched on the top if the globe like some strange bird. Jack only rolled his eyes and made a face at the large jackrabbit.

“Her name is Nat now!” Jack called down, and before she could refute him, her trailing dress and cascading hair suddenly fluttered wildly with a sudden rush of wind.

“Nat? How beautiful! Tell me, are your teeth as gorgeous as the rest of you? Oh, let me see, let me see!” the Tooth Fairy babbled incessantly as she whirled around the startled girl with her hands clasped and eyes glistening. Her little fairies flitted among the folds of Nat's dress, cuddling the silky fabric, or buzzed around her hair, picking up the golden locks to admire them with loving coos.

“Tooth. That is enough,” North ordered firmly. The green and blue feathered woman hung her head and sagged her shoulders guiltily.

“I’m sorry.”

The Sandman tugged impatiently on North's sleeve to point at her, the sand above his head forming a garish specter of Pitch Black.

“Yes, yes, I am getting to that.” Jack hopped down from the globe to stand behind her, twirling his staff in his head to plant it against the floor and lean against it. “I am sure Jack has told you?”

“Yes. You assume that Pitch is after me based on his intentions to ‘rid the world of its spring.’ Have you learned anything else?”

“Well, ya know how Pitch is. He ain't gonna be found unless he wants to,” Bunnymund frowned deeply as he crossed his furry arms and furiously tapped his large foot. “We're gonna search high and low for ‘im, but I betcha he we ain't gonna be able to force his hand.”

“Do you have any idea with what he could want with you, Nat?” Toothiana frowned deeply as she fluttered nervously over North's shoulder.

“I am the guardian of the Tree of Life. Pitch knows this, if little else,” she responded grimly. “If he were able to obtain its location, it would be quite easy for him to exact his plans. If the Tree of Life were to be harmed, what Pitch wishes will come to pass. The world will descend into a second Dark Age.” It had been humans who had plunged the Earth into the first; before, the Tree of Life had been a sacred artifact, known to humans and readily accessible to them. They would bring offerings to Mother Nature for blessings of good harvests and aid in the domestication of animals and plants. Men had grown greedy, however, and in their avarice had warred over the worldly Tree. In that great conflict the Tree and its keeper both had suffered terrible wounds, and the consequences were reaped by men and relished by the devilish Bogeyman. While the Tree nursed itself back to health, it was hidden from the race of men so that never again could they desire its fruits. Hidden behind the thundering waterfall for hundreds of years, it had slowly replenished, pouring life back into the world after an age of winter and despair. The Guardians knew none of this, though; they had been born from this conflict but possessed no knowledge of it.

“How does he plan to do that, though? It's not like you'll just tell ‘im,” the Easter Bunny snorted with derision.

“I am linked to the Tree just as much as it is to me. If I sustain a mortal wound, the Tree's power will wither without Pitch needing to lay eyes upon it,” she revealed quietly. “He will likely come for me rather than the Tree itself.”

“Then it is simple, then! We will protect Nat! Pitch will not be able to lay hand on her,” North insisted and flexed his arm to pat his bulging muscle. “Jack, you are Nat's bodyguard. We will handle Pitch.”

“I object!” she exclaimed while Jack grinned from ear to ear. “I need no _bodyguard.” Especially not **him**! _ She finished silently with an icy glare at the winter spirit, who just shrugged with an amused smile.

“It is not up for discussion,” the toymaker said sternly, and Nathalie slumped her shoulders, realizing that she would be unable to debate the issue. “We will rotate you between Guardians' homes to keep Pitch from finding you. First you will stay with Bunny.”

“That’s right! Easter is comin' up! I got work to do!” he nodded firmly with a look at Jack. “You'd better behave yourself or I’m gonna give you a swift kick to the keister.”

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Jack beamed as he threw an arm languidly around the rabbit's shoulders.

 _This is not my idea of fun,_ Nathalie pouted as her fate was all but decided for her. She gave a sidelong glance at the beaming boy. _Jack Frost…_ It seemed her destiny had become entwined with the boy who was winter incarnate, her counterpart that she had avoided meeting for four hundred years. _What lies ahead for the two of us?_

She could not even imagine it.


	6. Down the Rabbit Hole!

Nathalie was not discreet about her displeasure as she stood beside Bunnymund, arms crossed and expression dour.

“This is ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. I do not need a _babysitter,_ ” she snorted in derision, and as she uttered the words her eyes slid to Jack Frost, who was grinning brightly as he waved farewell to the little tooth fairies, fluttering out of the window behind their beautifully feathered master Toothiana. The other Guardians had elected to traverse the globe to attempt and root out Pitch Black, but Nathalie knew much better than that; the Bogeyman would remain hidden in his shadowy hole until the moment he wished to strike at her, and no amount of searching would reveal him. _On top of that, they leave me with **him** of all people. _Nathalie had a multitude of reasons why she did not wish to spend an exuberant amount of time with the winter spirit. As Jack turned to her, his face scrunched up in a happy smile, she immediately felt the cold flush of guilt. _He **is** going out of his way to ensure my safety… Personal reasons aside, I should be kind to him. _That was so hard, though, when he was an absolute goofball.

“Nat! Have you ever been to Bunny’s rabbit hole?” he asked elatedly as he skipped on the wind over to her. Nat looked down as the brisk breeze brushed over her legs, which immediately evaporated the ice crystals into dewy droplets of water that clung to her skin.

“Yes. I was the one who designed the plants that assist him in his Easter duties. Before, he was painting eggs by hand,” she informed him. Nat thought it was common knowledge, but the absolutely giddy look that appeared on Jack’s face indicated otherwise; he looked at Bunnymund while leaning on his staff and practically radiating light. “It has been at least two or three hundred years since I have seen it, however.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t get out much.” Nat wrinkled up her nose in displeasure, a barbed retort blossoming on her tongue, but she swallowed it when the Easter Bunny hopped between them and impatiently tapped his large back foot repeatedly against the ground.

“All right, lovebirds, quit yer chit-chat. We got work to do!” Before Nathalie could chastise him for his quite improper use of the term “ _lovebirds,”_ a chasm appeared beneath her feet and swallowed her up. She screamed as her behind met cold, rough earth and she began accelerating dangerously through what she frantically determined must be a rabbit tunnel. Abruptly something crashed into her back, and from the joyful laughter ringing in her eardrum she surmised that Bunnymund had purposefully included Jack in Nat’s harrowing dirt-slide ride. She felt the boy push a handful of her whirling blonde hair aside to lean over her shoulder, causing her face to flush red instead of white with fright. Not to mention, he had his legs on either side of her with his chest pressed against her back, a quite improper position for a young lady and a young man in Nat’s eyes.

“Isn’t this fun?” he hollered over the roaring wind. “Come on, put your hands up! _Woohoo!”_ He did not give Nat a moment to comply in her own, but instead wrenched her arms above her head and waved them about. Nathalie’s heart jumped into her throat as her fingertips skimmed the rounded dirt ceiling, sending clumps of the damp earth raining down into her fine hair and onto her not-so-pristine-anymore white dress. For a moment she shrieked in panic, her heels sliding into the natural slide in an attempt to act as some sort of brake, and she was quite sure that this was not _fun_ but borderline _insane_ , but then the tunnel curved into a sharp turn. As she and Jack were thrust sideways by the forces acting upon them, Nat’s body jerked and the wind rushed around her, and she found her screams morphing into increasingly giddy laughs. She wasn’t sure at which moment it occurred, but her arms remained raised of her own volition and Jack’s arms wound themselves around her waist, and she could hear his boyish laughs mingling in the air with her own. Watching the earth wall rapidly recede around her, blurred forms of tree roots and rocks blending with the endless brown smudge, and feeling the wind whisk away her voice while the adrenaline pumped through her veins had taken on some kind of exhilarating nature. Her pitch heightened with a gleeful shriek each time they hit a turn, as her body bumped about alongside Jack’s.

“This _is_ fun!” she shouted at him finally, turning to face him with a face now red from breathless wonder. As he cocked his head slightly to beam at her his chin bushed against her shoulder, and Nat was painfully reminded of why she hadn’t wanted to get close to Jack in the first place.

The tunnel around them suddenly vanished and then she and Jack were sailing through the open air. It was hard to make out exactly what was what, because all of Nat’s vision was just green with splashes of color against a swirling blue-and-white sky, but she knew they had arrived at Bunnymund’s abode. “We’re gonna crash!” she wailed when she realized the ground was rapidly rushing up to meet them, and momentarily terrified of a rough landing, she turned her body to throw her arms around Jack and bury her face into his blue hoodie. She heard him cry out in shock and flail about for a second, but following that did not come the jarring landing that Nat had expected; instead, it felt as if the winds changed directions to buoy her up, and she remained floating in the air like a feather upon the breeze. She cracked an eye open to see that was _exactly_ what had occurred, and Jack’s signature freezing winds had kept them suspended and allowed them to reach the ground in a much less harrying manner. As Nat’s bare feet met the lush grass, all of her tensed muscles relaxed at once and she felt relief flood through her.

That is, until she realized that she had her arms around Jack and he had his arms around her.

“You okay?” Though he was only checking on her well-being, his face got much too close for Nathalie’s comfort, and she pushed him away with much more force than was probably necessary. “Hey, I was only-!” he protested as he staggered backwards, arms flailing, but Nat was too busy marching across the opposite side of the clearing to keep him from seeing her burning face. Her emotions were roiling in such a state that she could not think straight nor determine which emotion she was actually feeling at the moment; she felt the equivalent of a fish being fried by an electric eel, short-circuiting and sparking. As she viciously combed her fingers through her wind-swept hair and tried to gather her thoughts, Jack appeared over her shoulder again with knitted eyebrows. “Nat, are you okay?”

“Yes, I am quite fine, thank you, and would you stop calling me that?” The words came out with a lot more acid than she meant, and it seemed anger had decided to surface from the writhing sea of feelings swirling inside her. Jack flinched and looked hurt, tugging the guilt and sadness out of her next. It cooled her heated body and allowed clarity to flood through her mind, and she quickly stammered, “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean it. I was just a little startled.” Her mouth twitched and she looked away as she once more felt the blush tainting her cheeks. “A-and you can keep calling me ‘Nat,’ if you’d like. I don’t dislike it.” No, she didn’t at all. The problem was that she liked it _too_ much.

“Oh, okay. I’m glad; I thought you were mad at me or something,” he snickered, immediately discarding her outburst and twirling his staff to prop it on his shoulder while he glanced around. “Oi, Bunny, where are you?” While Jack preoccupied himself with locating their host, Nat was finally able to settle down and focus on their surroundings. Bunnymund’s grove had indeed evolved in the few centuries since she had visited it, becoming a lush oasis of life. She wandered over to the edge of the clearing to crouch down and gently run her finger over the soft leaf of a curling plant, one of her design which allowed the little eggs to slip through and emerge with swirling patterns, as the plant absorbed the paint pigment where it touched. It had grown much larger from the little sprout of Nat’s making, with several stalks that allowed for multiple eggs to be accommodated by each plant. A smile formed on Nat’s lips. It always did her heart good to be in nature, and also to see that her handiwork was flourishing. “So, you made that?” Nat jumped at Jack’s sudden inquiry but did not turn, nodding instead as she straightened up to cast her emerald eyes over the rest of the plants encircling the clearing. “Why didn’t you just make him little assistants like North’s Yetis?” Nat snickered and looked at him in bemusement.

“You know him quite well, don’t you? It’s not hard to figure out. Does Bunnymund seem the type to want to keep up with dozens of little creatures like Yetis or elves?” As she explained it to him, he gave her that lop-sided smile of his. Nathalie’s heart jumped in her chest, her eyes focusing on his expression for much too long, and then she hastily looked away. If she was not careful, that smile would be her undoing. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and knelt down once more to inspect the colorful curling plants. “Besides, plant work is my specialty. I have always been more attuned to them than I have animals.”

“Oh.” Silence fell between them and Bunnymund did not appear. Nathalie was not sure what the Easter mascot’s game was, but she was not about to so willingly play. “Hey, Nat, why don’t you explore the grove with me?” he suddenly suggested, holding out his hand to her. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen it, and I’ve only been here once and didn’t really have the chance to poke around. C’mon, whadaya say?” Nat stared through lidded eyes at the pale hand hovering above her. She shouldn’t, she really shouldn’t, and she knew it, but that annoying heart of hers seemed to have a will of its own. She nodded and straightened up, not intending to take his hand for fear of what may happen, but Jack Frost was a willful boy. It reached out and found her hand nonetheless, and seemed not to feel the tremble in her fingers as it curled around them. That lop-sided smile still bloomed on Jack’s face like a rose in the snow. Nathalie could only struggle to keep the breath from being stolen from her chest as he pulled her along down the path and deeper into the grove, because Jack was just so utterly breathtaking that she couldn’t stand it.

She managed to hold her composure as they walked side-by-side (and hand-in-hand) down the uneven dirt paths that snaked through the lush pathways the eggs walked. Nat looked back to see little pink carnations blooming in the wake of her footsteps, which mortified her because that only happened when she was acutely embarrassed, and of course being aware of her embarrassment only made it worse. Jack was, well, Jack- completely oblivious or too nice to inquire about such a phenomenon, and she desperately hoped it was the latter. Trying to ignore the tingling of her nerves, traveling from her hand up her arm, she focused on what had become of Bunnymund’s garden.

As they traversed the grove, they could see little eggs on the march, most of them already bearing paint from the paint-producing flowers she had designed. It had been quite tricky, designing the plant chemistry to emit a cloud of pigment that would stick, but it had been a project Nat had quite enjoyed. The pastel packages waddled on to their destinations, falling through the spiral pattern plants or tromping beneath unique silver bell-like flowers that showered them in sticky, glittery pollen, jumping into pitcher plants full of dye to emerged two-toned or rolling across broad fern leaves to be patterned by their dye-producing dew buds. The towering trees were Jack’s favorite, as they produced berry-like fruits whose juices acted as a glassy, shiny dye and fell quite easily, even with the rustle of wind; the eggs marched right underneath them, of course, and left splashed with the substance and more stylish than before. Jack just liked them because the berries were good to eat, and he came through with the juices splattered all over his face and staining his fingertips. “How do I get this off? Bunny is gonna be mad at me!” he wailed as he unsuccessfully tried to remove the stains with his hoodie, which only left it smeared and also dyed the blue fabric a lovely shade of purple.

“I warned you. It’s water-resistant, too, so you’re going to have a tough time of it!” she laughed at him, earning a dismal pout in exchange.

The plants were only the beginning, though; to support such an ecosystem, pollinators were key, and the grove was also populated with such creatures of Nat’s design. Nat’s presence naturally attracted them, enough even to overcome their skittishness of Jack, allowing her to truly show him the magic she had wrought.

The grove had its own resident species of bee, modeled after the stingless honeybee but much larger and more docile. As they passed a hive, hanging from the bough of one of the berry trees, they came humming down from the leaves to bob and weave around the two of them. “Bunny uses their honey to dye eggs, too. It makes them look like stained glass,” she commented to a very impressed Jack while the bees bumped against her face and body. “Each colony is different, too. Their honey will be a different color depending on what flower they use the most.” Of course, the grove also had a wonderful array of butterflies. Nat had been quite imaginative with those; some were inconspicuous, similar to their non-mythical counterparts, but others bore the true creative prowess of Nat’s mind. One had wings like colored glass that sparkled with every flap, another had wings like rose petals, which it used to camouflage, and still another had wings like feathers and fluttered about on the breeze like dandelion seeds in the wind. Nat had made brilliantly plumaged birds and colorfully scaled lizards, bungling beetles and graceful dragonflies, frogs and newts to populate the ponds and little rodents to populate the nooks and crannies. As they came to a large pond, made of clear spring water seeping from the bedrock with koi-like fish with scales like gemstones swimming close to the white sandy bottom, Jack perched himself on a stone and looked at her with absolute wonder.

 

“You’re amazing, Nat.” The girl flushed at the compliment, making the water turn red in her reflection, and watched a tadpole wriggle through the water rather than look at him. “Really… I never could have imagined someone that has so much power. You literally designed a whole _world._ ” Nat exhaled slightly as she sat on her knees beside the pond’s edge, tracing her finger over its calm surface to send ripples bubbling across.

“The power of the Earth is not something to be wielded lightly. That is why Pitch must not be able to get his hands on the Tree of Life, no matter the cost.”

“Or _you,”_ Jack pointed out. She stiffened as he came to sit next to her, their shoulders bumping together, but her pride and a small measure of happiness prevented her from moving over. “I mean, you said if he hurts you, the Tree will be hurt too, right?”

“Yes, that is true. The Tree and I are linked through the Earth.”

“What does that even mean?” he frowned at her, leaning back into the sand. Nat cocked her head to the side slightly, her eyes searching the still-rippling water’s surface for an easy way to explain her role and her relationship with nature.

“The Guardians protect the light of children, yes? They are guided by The Man in the Moon. In the same vein, I am guided by the Earth, and guard the life she brings forth. It is much deeper than that, though. I am linked to the Earth. I feel her pain, her joy and her sorrow, as my own.” A complex expression appeared on Jack’s face as he struggled to comprehend her explanation.

“The Earth… has… feelings?”

“Yes. She is as much a person as you and I, but she has no physical form. Instead, she runs like blood through the planet.” Nat reached forward to pull a water lily across the pond’s surface, taking Jack’s hand to gently place it over the soft pink leaves of the flower. “Can you feel it? Her spirit pulsing within every aspect of life. Her laughter is the wind rustling through the leaves; her sorrow is the rain upon a summer’s morning; her joy is the warmth of the sun and the scent of flowers on the breeze.” Jack knitted his eyebrows as his fingers brushed over the petals, but he quickly gasped and retracted his hand as the petals turned withered and black with frost. A look of acute sadness appeared on his face, but Nat simply smiled and waved a hand over the flower, and it bloomed brighter than before. It seemed that Nat was not the only one barred from something.

“Does that mean… I hurt her, doing what I do?”

“In a sense, but don’t feel bad about it, Jack. You are doing what you are meant to do. You bring joy to the hearts of children, upon winter’s back. Besides, winter comes regardless of your coming. Winter is when the Earth sleeps, to replenish herself for the renewal of life in the spring. It is also man’s penance for their greed.” Nat did not mention it, but winter was also one of the most painful things she could experience, feeling the life die around her and cry for relief…

“Really?”

“That’s right. Before Mother Nature existed, the Earth shared everything with man and it was eternally spring and summer. Crops never failed; game was always plentiful. However, man grew greedy and demanded more of the Earth, and went so far as to try and steal her power as their own.” Nat pushed the water lily away and watched it float across the pond until it rejoined the other blooms. “So, she punished them with the winter, to keep them humble and to remind them that life is a gift that should not be taken for granted. The Earth chose a virtuous human to be her first Guardian of the Tree of Life, Mother Nature. Life and death are of the same coin, just like you and I.” She smiled in bemusement. “Humans are difficult learners, though. There was once a time when the Tree was available to them, but they tried to steal its power, too. That is why it is now hidden and I must govern life’s progression from the shadows… It is also why they can no longer see me.”

“Man, you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, don’t you?” Jack was stretched out beside her now, his head propped in his hand and his blue eyes trained on her. Nat flushed, but looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t imagine having the fate of the world in my hands _every day._ ” Nat’s mouth twitched upwards into a smile. “And you deal with all that by yourself?” The smile fell from Nat’s face, and she looked down at her lap.

“It’s… The way I prefer things to be.” That was a bold-faced lie, but she could not tell him the truth. It wasn’t people, it was _him_ she could not bring herself to get close to.

“Why?” he insisted and sat up. Nathalie’s pulse skyrocketed as he pushed a little closer to her. She could feel his hand sliding in the sand behind her back. “I know how painful it is to be alone. I went around without memories for four hundred years. I had nobody. Then I met Jamie, and the rest of the Guardians, and…” He trailed off, then looked at her intently. “I felt _completed._ ” He hesitated for a moment, and then suddenly grabbed her hand again. _No. No, this can’t happen. I can’t-!_ “Nat, you don’t have to be alone anymore. I’ll-“ Before he could say anything else, Nathalie pulled herself away from him and scurried back to the path, leaving sand falling and a distressed Jack in her wake. She hovered at the entrance to the pathway, not looking at him but also not wishing to leave, so she just settled for stiffly standing there.

“I’m sorry, Jack. The burden of the Earth is mine to bear alone. I don’t _need_ anyone else.” She placed bite in that last sentence, though she felt none. _For four hundred years, I’ve kept up this wall of mine, and in less than a day he waltzes in and starts tearing it down…_ Nat wanted it destroyed, oh, how she did. She could not allow it, though.

She could not allow it, because Jack would be hurt by it in the end.


End file.
